


Home For Christmas

by RocketKat123



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Body Horror, Dissection, Gen, POV Second Person, Poor Danny like for real, Vivisection, also poor Jazz, as if Danny didn't have enough reason to hate Christmas, this is...bad...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocketKat123/pseuds/RocketKat123
Summary: You walk through the front door. The house is quiet. Your stomach sinks. Usually at this time of the year, Fentonworks is loud with your parents’ silly arguments and sometimes with the unholy screeches of various food items brought to life by your parents’ experiments. You tried to tell yourself that it was nothing, but the hairs on the back of your neck still stood on end, and your stomach does a flip.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Home For Christmas

You decided to come home for Christmas break. Danny was glad to hear it. He didn’t want to go through Christmas alone with your parents, of course. You couldn’t blame him, and though spending a Christmas without your parents was tempting, you wouldn’t do that to your brother. Christmas break for Casper High had already started a couple days ago, so he had already gotten sick of being stuck at home with your parents.

So you packed up and took on the four hour drive from Chicago to Amity Park. The University Of Chicago wasn’t your first choice, but at least it was better than St Louis. They had offered a free ride and it was close to home. It wasn’t Ivy League, but you hadn’t expected to get accepted to Harvard or Yale. Your grades had slipped a little senior year—much to your shame—from helping your brother with patrols. It didn’t matter. Like you said, it was closer to home. You could go to sleep a little easier knowing it was just a few hours drive away and not a whole plain ride.

You had called the house before you set out around one o’clock in the afternoon. Your dad had picked up. He was glad to hear you and quite happy that you were already on your way, but he had to leave quickly when they suddenly got an alert of a ghost attack. You hoped they were okay. They were, but Danny always got the brunt of the attack. You hoped it would be something low level, and almost wished your dad had told you what kind of alert it was, so you knew how much to worry.

Finally, you get to Fentonworks. You had called again when you reached town, but no one had answered. The next ten minutes to the house had been some of the most anxious minutes in your life.

You turn off the engine and quickly get out of the car. You don’t worry about getting your bags. You’ll worry about them once you know your family is alright.

You walk through the front door. The house is quiet. Your stomach sinks. Usually at this time of year, Fentonworks is loud with your parents’ silly arguments and sometimes with the unholy screeches of various food items brought to life by your parents’ experiments.You tried to tell yourself that it was nothing, but the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and your stomach does a flip.

You came inside, closing the door loudly behind you. Still nothing.

Finally, you decide to shout, “Hey, I’m here!”

It takes a long moment before someone answers you back.

“We’re down here, honey!” you hear your mother’s shout from the basement.

You want to breath a sigh of relief, but something still bothers you. Danny hadn’t answered you, but he could just be with his friends or fighting ghosts. You hope it’s not the latter.

You take off your jacket and hang it on the wrack then go to the basement door. You notice it’s already slightly ajar. As you start down the stairs, you hear your mother muttering thoughtfully, but you can’t make out what she is saying. And then just as you’re about to reach the bottom of the dark stairwell, you hear a snap. Your body goes still, and your heart begins to beat faster. Something about that sound isn’t right, and you find yourself subconsciously equating it to the snapping of a bone. And then you hear it again.

You break out of your rigor and quickly go the rest of the way down the stairs. You reach the bottom. And see...

You see your dad. He’s at the desk pushed against the left wall closest to the bottom of the stairwell. He’s taking notes in his usual messy scrawl. His rubber gloves were laid aside. They were stained with green.

You look around. You see green everywhere, ectoplasm, it’s ectoplasm. It dripped off the table into a drain in the middle of the floor.

Standing overtable, with cable cutters you see your mom. With a grunt she snips the shears and you hear another snap. You jump and let out a quiet yelp.

Your mom looks up. “Are you alright?”

You ignore her, because finally you see Danny.

He’s on the table, but he’s not Danny. He’s Phantom. Your parents don’t know they’re one and the same. His black and white jumpsuit is pealed down to his waist, and his snow white hair is mussed and flecked with green. His eyes are half lidded. You think you still see light in them. Could he still be alive? You find yourself hoping he isn't.

A line is connected to his neck pumping a clear liquid into him. You don't want to know what it is. Your eyes go lower down his small frame even though you don't want them to. His chest is cut open into a Y incision, the flaps of his flesh are pinned back, exposing things you should never, ever see. A sister should never have to know what her brother's innards look like, you think in horror as your eyes land on coal black ribs, and dark green organs. They glisten in the cold florescent lights of the lab. You see a light from the center of his chest, and green is still sluggishly spilling from him. You want to look away but you can’t. Your blood begins to roar in your ears.

“Oh, I should have warned you not to come down here. I’m so sorry,” your mother says. You hardly hear her.

She puts down the cable cutter and takes off her gloves. She starts to approach you, but suddenly you run.

You bolt up the stairs, mindless in your panic, and make a beeline for the downstairs bathroom.You throw the bathroom door open, then the lid of the toilet. You retch. At first the vomit doesn’t come. You dry heave, and then throw up the meager contents of your stomach. You idly remember that you only had some reheated ramen noodles for breakfast. Such is the life of a college student.

You feel someone behind you, and you feel a familiar hand on your back. Your mother pulls back your hair.

“Don’t...” you finally manage to gasp out. Tears fall down your face, but they are likely just mistaken to be an affect of getting sick.

“Don’t what, honey?” she asks sounding confused.

“Leave...h-him alone...” Your voice is thready and weak. You want to tell her everything. But then you think of your brother laid out on the table, and your stomach heaves once more.

“I’m so sorry,” your mother murmurs, rubbing your back. “It surprised me too. Ghost don’t normally...they don’t have....”

You whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t want her to talk about this. You don’t want this to be happening.

“We’ll close it up for today. Maybe we can forget about this for a little bit while you’re here.”

“He’s Danny,” you say as you finally find your voice. It’s weak and thin and coarse.

Your mother’s hand on your back pauses. “What?”

“He’s Danny,” you repeat.

Your mother’s voice is deadpan as she says, “Who’s Danny?”

“Phantom,” you breathe. “He’s Phantom.”

You feel her hand leave your back. “That’s impossible,” your mother whispers.

You shift to lean back against the tub. You look anywhere but your mother. “The portal. It happened with the portal.”

“No,” she says in a horrified whisper. You can see her slowly shaking her head in your periphery. “That’s—that’s impossible!”

You want to shout, you want to scream, you want to cry, but you just whisper, “You did this to him.”

“Jazz, it can’t be it’s physically impossible!” your mother says, beginning to sound desperate. “Danny i-is alive. Phantom is a ghost. You can’t be both at the same time.”

You swallow thickly, tasting bile. “He is.”

“No...”

There are several beats of silence, then your mother stands up and quickly leaves the bathroom—leaving you alone. You let out a long breath and tip back your head against the lip of the bathtub. You stare at the ceiling.

You feel numb.


End file.
